“Come with me. Let’s get you some air.”
I unfold myself and timidly take his hand, letting him use his body weight to help me stand, and as I do, he gathers me in the warmth of his chest and holds onto me, one arm at my upper back and the other close to the tip of my spine. I relax into him, my head buried in his chest, which is probably a good thing, because I’m not sure if I can find the words to share what I feel.
“I need to apologize,” he says out of the blue as we stand there.
“Why? Were you a part of this whole ‘get Knox and Isabelle on a road trip together’ plan?”
He chuckles low. “No, I didn’t have any part of that. And no, I’m not saying sorry for that either.”
“Why then?”
He looks out at the darkness for a short while before speaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you when I left for college. I was a selfish prick. I’m still a selfish prick. One who didn’t and still doesn’t deserve a loyal, devoted friend like you. Then, I made things worse by using you at the engagement party. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed every second of hooking up with you...but friends don’t fuck their best friends. I might’ve ruined what we had. I broke us, Belle. That’s all on me. I’m deeply sorry and I hope you can forgive me. I wanted to get that out in the open before we spend this weekend together. And I want to start over. I’ll admit that I don’t have a clue what starting over looks like. Having you once, kissing you, getting hot and heavy at the engagement party, well I don’t know if I can stand not having you again...but if that’s what it takes to go back to being friends, so be it. Bottom line is I couldn’t have gotten through the last few weeks without you. Seeing you at dinner, those texts, they might seem like a small thing, but they weren’t. You always seem to know exactly what I need and when I need it. It’s like you see past all my bullshit and can read me from miles away. That’s why I need you. So however you see us, I’m in.”
I look up at him just as a car approaches us along the freeway. Its high beams hit his face so directly that it casts sharp lines and shadows along his features. Yet again I find myself in awe of how handsome my best friend is. I don’t want to hear his apology. I want his lips to do something other than talk, preferably on my mouth or anywhere along my body.
“What do you think?” he asks. “Do I get another chance? Maybe you need time to think about it over the weekend and let—”
“Kiss me.” My body sways into his chest and I lift up onto my tiptoes, meeting his awaiting lips.
He’s so gentle this time. He peruses the seam of my mouth, slowly parting them open. He takes his time as his tongue pushes past and connects with mine. He explores lazily, the tip running against the roof of my mouth as need builds all through my body. Just as slowly, he pulls from the kiss and presses his lips on my forehead.
“What are we doing, Belle?” he whispers onto my skin.
“I’m not sure I can go back to what we were,” I admit. “You’re right. You ruined us...and now, I want more. But promise me something.”
“Anything you want.”
“I’m not making out with you at your grandfather’s place this weekend. There’ll be too many eyes. Too much meddling is already in the works, and the last thing I need is my parents thinking their scheming is working.”
He rumbles out a laugh. “Pops is on the scheming train too. Maybe the three of them are colluding.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them.” My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that it needs food. “Hey, is there anywhere we can stop for something to eat when we get into town?”
“Sure,” he motions for me to return to my seat, and I lower into the car feeling relief. “Fast food it is.”
Knox clicks a remote in his car toward a massive wrought iron gate and it opens automatically. As he pulls up onto the long, circular brick driveway of their Hamptons mansion, I start to feel nervous. I know exactly why. We’re about to spend a weekend with a lot of life-long friends, family and acquaintances, some of whom will be sitting on the sidelines, hoping for a love connection between Knox and me. In addition to that, it feels like this holiday will be overshadowed by something dark and ominous. Like we’re waiting for a shoe to drop. Mom mentioned that Mr. Steele may be ill, and she believes this is the weekend he’ll come out into the open about it. It would be so much more convenient to know what I’m walking into.
Perhaps I could’ve asked Knox what it was about, but honestly, my curiosity was in no way stronger than my desire for calm. A long time ago, I came to the conclusion that people will share themselves in their own time, and not a second sooner. I also learned that I’m damned patient, and it’s not that I don’t care. It just feels better when friends are free to open up at their own pace, of their own volition.
In any event, whether he uses this weekend to break the news to us or not, I’ll be okay. Knox seems to be handling whatever it is,
